


An Assassin's Guide to Love and Murder

by Paarthursass



Series: Skyrim Kink Meme [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, Skyrim Kink Meme, Star-crossed, and potions mix-ups, meddling daedra, murderers in love and murdering things, not a good combination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:46:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paarthursass/pseuds/Paarthursass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Dragonborn eluding all previous assassination attempts, Astrid sends out Veezara to finish the job. A couple of meddling Daedra have other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the Skyrim Kink Meme prompt asking for a take on the Cupid and Psyche myth with Veezara and a target. (The full discussion (found here -> http://skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/5232.html?thread=12854128#t12854128 )is actually much more in-depth, and a LOT of the ideas for this story came from things the OP brought up. I cannot take credit for everything in here.)

Anyone could see that Astrid was in a foul mood, but Veezara could taste it.  As soon as he heard the door to the Sanctuary slam from her entrance, he flicked his tongue out to taste the air and hummed. 

Oh yes, she was in a very bad mood indeed.

In her state, Arnbjorn was the only one brave enough to even try and find out the reason for her low spirits.  And so the others were left to simply wait and hope that the werewolf could calm his wife. 

“I bet it was that target again,” Babette piped up.  “The one who’s been killing all the initiates.”

“I don’t see why Astrid doesn’t just send out someone more experienced to deal with her,” Gabriella sniffed.  “Just because some girl the Nords are calling the Dragonborn’s been too much for any new recruit doesn’t mean one of us couldn’t take her.”

“You just want to be able to say you bagged her,” Festus accused.

“Of course I do; everyone wants to say they assassinated a legend.”

“I thought she was just some girl the Nords were calling the Dragonborn,” Nazir teased.

“And whoever kills her will be just some assassin the Nords say killed the Dragonborn,” Gabriella retorted.

“Because the Nords need another reason to discriminate against Dark Elves.  Really, you give your race a bad name, Gabriella.”

“Against the tenets or not, I _will_ slip some nightshade into your next meal, Nazir.”

“Hush,” Babette waved the others into silence. “They’re coming back.”

The assassins waited patiently as Astrid and Arnbjorn entered the main hall, both of them sporting unreadable expressions. 

The pair came to a halt in front of the group, and Arnbjorn stood back as Astrid scanned her eyes over the faces of the Brotherhood.  When Astrid’s gaze passed over him, Veezara again tasted the air.  She was on edge, but Arnbjorn had successfully cooled his wife’s ire, at least for now.

“We lost Rizita today,” Astrid said. “Her target proved more than she could handle.”

None of them reacted.  The Khajiit had been skilled, even more so than the previous recruits, but they all knew that the contract Astrid had given her was a death sentence. 

“I’m tired of this game.  And there’s too much gold riding on this contract to let it go unfinished any longer.”

Astrid’s gaze again swept over the assassins spread out before her, and her eyes eventually on Veezara.  The Argonian took in a slow, deep breath. 

“Veezara, you’re to take up and finish this job.  Understood?”

Before he could even reply, a cry of protest came from Gabriella.

“Astrid, I’ve been _begging_ you to let me have this one!”

“Yes, Gabriella, which is precisely why you’re not getting it,” the Nord snapped.  “Nor Babette, who’s been asking as well.  You both play with your targets too much.  This one’s proven to be slippery, and she’s alerted to our presence.  Minimal contact is required, and _I’ve_ decided that Veezara is the most qualified for it.”

Gabriella clamped her mouth shut, but Veezara didn’t need to taste the air to tell that she was seething.

Once she was sure that there would be no more interruptions,  Astrid turned her gaze to the Argonian.

“Veezara, do you accept this contract?”

He could feel the eyes of the others upon him, but ever-cool, Veezara gave a simple nod of his head.

“I do.”


	2. Interlude, Part I

"So she crashed your party with Pelagius and you _still_ gave her the Wabbajack?”

“What can I say?  I like a girl with spirit.  She reminds me of myself, actually.  Do you remember when _I_ was a girl with spirit?”

“How can I forget?  You were so full of spirit you went streaking through Leyawiin.”

“Ah, good times.”

“Has she gone streaking yet?”

“Nah, I think it’s the wrong climate for it.  She’s not used to the cold, poor girl.”

“What’s she up to now?”

“Sticking it to the Brotherhood, last I heard.”

“ _Really_?”

“Oh yes, she’s got a collection of those lovely little assassination notes they’ve got for her.”

“Standing up to old Sithis; good for her!”

“In fact, the only one she’s spared so far’s been that Cicero fellow.”

“The one you did a number on after Sithis said –”

“Yep.”

“Oooh, she has good judgement.”

“That she does!  In fact, I think I’d like to reward her kindness.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Oooh, a little bit of _divine intervention_ on the next attempt on her life seems fair.”

“With a twist?”

“Sammy, I invented with a twist.  Or at least I own the rights.”

“You co-own them with me, cheese head.”

“Right you are.  Which is why I want your help in this little _display of gratitude_ …”


	3. Chapter 3

Veezara’s scales itched to get out of the Sanctuary and on the road.  He disliked lingering while there was a contract to be filled, and the looks his brothers and sisters gave him made him think they all expected him to die.

When he met with Astrid to review the information on his target, Veezara found himself disappointed by how little there was.

“She calls herself Asa, and she’s passing herself off as a Nord,” Astrid began. “But Sillas reported seeing her use the Voice of the Emperor once.  Make sure she doesn’t get to use that on you.”

“Does she have a home?” Veezara frowned.

“Nothing permanent, but she seems to spend most of her time in Riften.  She moves around a lot, but there’s something significant there for her.  That’s where I’d start.”

Veezara nodded, and quietly felt relieved.  He could blend in in Riften; the Argonian population was large there, and the land striders rarely were able to tell one from the other.

“Is there anything else?  Her preferred combat type, what kind of armor she wears?  I need to know what I’m going up against, Astrid.”

The Brotherhood’s matron gave a heavy exhale.  “Sillas was the only one who sent extensive reports, but that was months ago.  And he must not have found her armor or choice of weapon extraordinary, because he only ever mentioned how much fur she wore against the cold.  I haven’t heard anything about magic, but any idiot can cast a fire spell if they read the right tome.  I wish I could give you more but that’s all I have.  She’s tricky.” Astrid crossed her arms, and gave the Argonian a critical look.

“You having second thoughts about the contract?”

“No,” Veezara sharply replied. “One elusive human won’t be a problem.”

Astrid smiled, but a Veezara could still see the uncertainty lingering behind her eyes.

The only one he visited before leaving was Babette, and that was merely out of necessity.

“So, how does it feel to be treated like a dead man?” Babette sweetly asked, her mocking red eyes looking up at the Argonian. “I wouldn’t know, being undead and all.”

“Do you have anything that I could use, Sister?” Veezara asked, ignoring her jab.

“Hmmm, a few poisons, some paralytics, some invisibility potions, the usual.  I also cooked up a few solutions of resist fire, just in case she is Dragonborn and starts trying to char you.”

“With any luck, she’ll be down before she knows I’m there,” Veezara replied, digging through his pack and offering Babette the amount of gold needed for the potions.  His eyes scanned over the various bottles she had stacked around her work area, and his gaze fell on a potion that was unfamiliar to him. 

Both the bottle and the liquid within were clear and colorless.  No label identified the potion, and the Argonian cocked his head.

“Is that a new experiment of yours?” he asked.

Babette gave the potion a glance, and wrinkled her nose.

“It was supposed to be a detect-life potion, but something went wrong,” she admitted. “I must have accidentally put in another ingredient, but I can’t figure out which one.”

“Hm.” Veezara turned his gaze from the mystery potion, and gave Babette’s collection another glance over before he began to bag up the ones he had bought.

“Anything else you have that might be of use?”

“Just my prayers,” she replied.  “You’re one of the best we have, Veezara.  I’d hate to see you lost to this target.”

A bit pleasantly surprised – and also a bit worried – by the unexpected sentiment, Veezara offered Babette a smile then, and gave her a gentle bow of his head as he collected the last of the potions.

“Thank you, Sister.”

Babette, Astrid, and Nazir saw him off.  Veezara was again given the distinct impression that they expected him to die, but he ignored the foreboding feeling. 

“You sure you don’t want Shadowmere?” Astrid watched him carefully. 

“He stands out too much,” Veezara reasoned. “If I need a horse I can steal one; there’s a number of farms between here and Riften.”

“Make sure to bring back a souvenir.” Nazir gave his usual, mocking grin. “But make it something tasteful.  Like her tongue.”

“I should get going before I lose the dark.” Veezara shifted his pack and adjusted the common miner’s garb he wore as disguise.  Astrid nodded, and she gave Veezara another intent look.

“Don’t let me down, Veezara.  Don’t let us down.  Kill the bitch.”

Veezara blinked, and then gave a nod of his head.

“You won’t be disappointed.”


	4. Chapter 4

The journey to Riften wasn’t a fun one.  Veezara had stuck close to the roads, but Skyrim’s wildlife held no sense of boundaries.  He was well-prepared, so the wolves and bears and spiders were really only a nuisance to him.  He had a run-in with a troll when he crossed into the Rift, but the beast only managed to get a scratch in before he’d been felled by Veezara’s blade.

The only worry that Veezara had during his travels were the dragons.  He could hear them sometimes, roaring from their perches up in the mountains.  While travelling through Falkreath he saw one flying off in the distance.  And one night when he was camped and resting, he thought he heard the thunder of one’s wings as it flew over him.

Veezara didn’t doubt his skills as an assassin or a Shadowscale, but dragons were best left to warriors and spellswords. 

Mercifully, the Argonian was able to avoid a confrontation with one of the winged beasts and soon found himself at Riften.  He ignored the gates and the posted guards, however, and waited for the cover of night.  He stripped himself down to his smallclothes, stuffed his attire into his treated-leather pack, and slid into the chilled waters of Lake Honrich. 

He silently moved through the waters, and just as he knew there would be, found a small opening in the wooden gate to the Riften Canal. 

Argonians were a crafty race, and knew that a quick escape route might be needed from a city not their own.  Especially a city with such a sullied reputation as Riften’s.

Once he had made his way onto the lower walkway, Veezara dressed himself and made his way up to the main street.  It was still early enough that a few people were stilling milling around, but none of them gave him as much as a second glance.  That was good.  He might even be able to get some information…

In the end, Veezara went where he saw the other Argonians go; a bunkhouse on the outskirts of town.  The voluptuous Nord who ran the place didn’t seem to notice him as a newcomer, so Veezara slipped into the dining room and sat in a corner, his ears open for any bits of gossip that might aid him.

It took a bit of patience and a lot of sitting through constant complaining about the Thieves Guild and the Black-Briars, but eventually Veezara heard something interesting.

“Svana’s in high spirits,” one of the Dunmer commented.

“Of course she is.  Have you noticed how flustered Haelga is?  That girl did something,” another snorted.

“I didn’t do anything,” the young maid – Svana, Veezara assumed – smugly declared as she glided into the room, broom in hand. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Aw, come on, Svana!  Tell us what happened!  We need a bit of good gossip,” the second Dunmer begged.

“I don’t know…Haelga will have my head.”

“Please?”

“Oh, alright,” Svana sighed, looked over her shoulder, and then leaned in towards the two Dunmer with a conspiratorial grin.

“Asa came by the other day, with three marks of Dibella that she’d taken from Haelga’s lovers.”

Veezara lifted his head at the mention of the name, and the first Dunmer sat in stunned silence while the second howled in laughter.

“Quiet!” Svana hissed as she looked over her shoulder again. “Do you want Haelga to hear you?”

“Oh, who cares?  The bitch had it coming,” the Dunmer laughed. “Azula’s tits, Layla should make Asa Thane just for that.”

“Ha!  That girl won’t get Thaned – she’s a thief!  Everyone knows it,” a Nord woman spoke up, her face contorted into a deep scowl.

“Everyone suspects,” the first Dunmer corrected.

“She did squeeze Haelga for some money a ways back,” Svana admitted.

“Did she squeeze her for anything else?” the second Dunmer wiggled his eyebrows.

“Tythis!”

“Thief or not, that girl got me off skooma,” a frail looking Argonian spoke. “Saved me from losing my job.  She’s even out there now, dealing with the suppliers of that awful poison.  Just you see; she’ll be back in a few days and Riften will be that much cleaner.”

A Dunmer woman slammed her mug down on the table then, and cursed loudly. “Why’d she have to do that?!  Not _all_ of us want to go through skooma withdrawl!”

The conversation started diverting then, but it mattered little to Veezara: he’d gotten the information he needed.

All he had to do now was wait.


End file.
